


Second Hand Trauma

by danvssomethingorother



Category: The Venture Bros
Genre: Child Abuse, F/M, Gen, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 11:53:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17385995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danvssomethingorother/pseuds/danvssomethingorother
Summary: Set sometime after “Assisted Suicide’’, The Monarch is having nightmares and they aren’t his, he's trapped in Rusty Venture's worst traumas each time he goes to sleep.





	Second Hand Trauma

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually the first VB fic I started and I gave up on cause I kept having trouble writing it but I think I can actually finish it. Just give me a bit of time.

Something was very off but at the moment, he couldn’t tell what it was that was off.

For one, he didn’t remember being this young, he stared at his hands in front of him and clenched them tightly, dropping the space ship he had been holding that had ‘Rusty’ written sloppily up the side in red ink.

Two, his name was not Rusty. He couldn’t remember exactly who he was right now staring at his tiny little fingers, stretching them out and just staring at the little cuts and scrapes running up and down his thin arms. Directing his line of sight on the deep bruising circling around his wrists, moving them back he winced at the pain. 

He really took in his nails and how broken and jagged they were, the tips of his fingers looking raw and bruising lightly like he had to dig his way out of something. 

What happened? He thought, his heart beat beginning to pick up, where was dad? He felt really sick right now half remembering a man yanking him away from his dad and binding his hands tight in front of him and throwing him in a hole, throwing dirt on top of him. 

He hugged himself, rocking back and forth, he wanted his dad. He didn’t feel good, he just wanted someone to tell him it was ok.

A voice in his head was snidely telling him his name was not Rusty and the man he wanted so badly to tell him it was ok was not his dad, but it wasn’t quite working. He felt like Rusty Venture and he just wanted his dad.

He curled on the ground holding back sobs, loudly dry heaving feeling like throwing up but just not having anything to come up. He got up biting his lip and continuing to shake as he staggered to his feet.

He finally found the courage to walk towards the study, he just stood there not wanting to enter hearing Dad playing with another of his friends. She was yelling out his name and he was begging her to keep saying it, just like that.

He just clung to his rocket ship and turned away, Dad wasn’t bothered by what happened, so he wasn’t allowed to be either. That was the rule of the house. If it didn’t affect daddy, you weren’t allowed to cry about it either, Rusty.

He jumped as he heard something smash against the wall and heard his uncles yelling at each other. It sounded like Uncle Action was taking his ‘Go Juice’ again and Uncle Gentleman wasn’t happy he was doing it in the living room where ‘he was eating’. 

“We are not going into god damn battle right now!” he heard Gentleman yell and his cane smacking against something making Rusty’s heart beat speed up and he clung tighter to his toy trying to control his breathing.

“You are not my god damn mom, Horace!” Rusty didn’t know why but he was full on sobbing now, the yelling was just getting to him more then it normally would.

“And stop hitting your cane against the table! You want to fight Horace???”

“If you are not going to be civil, I’m going in my damn room.”

“Fine!!! Just god damn leave!! You god damn fucking coward!”

He pulled his blanket over his head and didn’t even bother keeping his sobs silent anymore after hearing Gentleman’s door slam shut and heard Action turning the volume up on the TV as dad began getting louder with his new friend. 

\---

Malcom shot up, sweat pouring down his face and his breathing heavy, he glanced around the dark room, pulling his hand up and staring at his hand. He flexed each long, pointy finger and shook his head.

What the fuck was that dream?

He thought of just lying back down and going back to sleep but he just couldn’t find it in him to do that. That wasn’t just a normal dream, that felt more like a memory. He glanced at his wife, still fast asleep.

That wasn’t the first time he had felt something that intense. Slowly he crept out of bed and went to stand by the window, watching the clouds begin to cover up the moon.

“Sweetie?” he turned his head towards his wife as she rose from the bed, the best number two he would ever have, always quick to comfort him in his distress.

“Why are you up?”

“Its nothing,” he said with a fake smile kissing his wife on the forehead, “Just thought I heard something. It was nothing though, let’s go back to bed.”

She frowned at him, always quick to notice when something wasn’t right but she kept it to herself for now pulling him back to bed with her.

She rested her head on his chest and he just lay there running his fingers through her hair long after she had fallen asleep.

He had heard their were side effects to entering someone else’s mind, if you weren’t careful, you could end up doing just as much damage to your psyche as your victims.

He shrugged off his shortly lived worries, he didn’t think it was a risk when he entered Dr. Venture’s mind and he wasn’t going to start worrying about it now. It was just his mind playing tricks on him.

He let a smug smile settle on his face as he fell back to sleep, soothed by his own disregard of his own safety, lulled to sleep by the mere thought of nightmares his scheme gave his enemies if he got that intense of a nightmare.

What a fool he was, to believe his own lies that nothing was wrong.


End file.
